Masquerade snippet
by vanishingp2000
Summary: Tag to the episode Masquerade, Tony and Gibbs relax at the end of the case. Spoilers for Flesh and Blood, Masquerade, Jet Lag and Cloak. COMPLETE


**AN: I have been struggling to write for over a year and this snippet is an attempt to redress that, it is, at least, the only thing that I have managed to finish in that time.**

**Many, many thanks to all those that have encouraged me to write more, especially to scousemuz1k who has been gently encouraging and supportive and who was kind enough to read this, offer very helpful suggestions and to reassure me before I got the nerve up to post again. I hope you enjoy it, VP.**

**SPOILERS for Flesh and Blood, Cloak, Jet Lag and, of course, Masquerade.**

**Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me and I am making no money from this. **

"Tap dancing DiNozzo?"

Tony smiled, flipping the steak before sitting back on his heels and looking over at his mentor. He was glad to see that the older man didn't feel the need to mask his discomfort as he sat on his couch rubbing his injured shoulder gently. Though, from the look on his face he clearly wanted an answer. DiNozzo smiled again, it was hardly a secret that he was going, though he may have suggested a different motivation for the exercise to Ziva. He glanced over at Gibbs who was waiting expectantly before finally replying. "Well yeah Gibbs, it's fun and Jimmy's good company."

The older man snorted in amusement, rubbing his shoulder again absent mindedly as he tried to picture the two making like Gene Kelly, glimpses of Palmer swinging round a streetlight following DiNozzo complete with umbrella flashed through his mind. Moments later he sobered taking a look at DiNozzo's face. His second's eyes had taken on a contemplative gleam and Gibbs knew exactly what was on his mind before he spoke. There was still a faint scent of her perfume on the air.

"So, she was here?" Tony began, more of a statement than a question.

"Oh yeah," Gibbs was rueful.

"Did she?"

"Oh yeah," Gibbs replied again, this time with relish, thinking back to the encounter in his living room not forty minutes previously.

"And?" Tony prodded.

"Oh, she was pissed alright," he said with a smile. "Sometimes it's almost too easy."

"Be careful Boss, she's dangerous."

Gibbs nodded. "Of that I have no doubt," he agreed soberly.

"But sometimes the game is more fun than others?" the Italian suggested.

Gibbs gave him a small smile. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," he allowed.

"Keep me in the loop," the younger man pressed, looking intently at his mentor.

Gibbs smiled slightly, having no intention of repeating his mistakes with the Domino debacle. Finally he nodded, the unspoken, _but this stays between us, _not needing to be voiced aloud. They had been following Hart's movements closely since first connecting her to Colonel Bell but their investigation remained unofficial, for now. Truth be told they hadn't gotten very far. Tony had traced the original meeting and they knew her to be Bell's lawyer, potentially more, but as to whether her motivation in muscling in harkened back to Bell or the ideas were her own they had drawn a blank.

Sighing Tony turned back to the steak over the fire, pressing it gently with his fork to ensure it was done. Turning he eyed his friend before asking. "You want me to cut this or lose the sling?"

Gibbs sighed in frustration before glaring slightly at the knife in Tony's hand. DiNozzo took that as the instruction it was and quickly sliced half the meat onto a plate in bite sized pieces, handing it over with a fork to the older man.

Gibbs grunted his thanks as an opened beer was placed on the coffee table in front of him and sat back to enjoy his meal. He was thankful to have his SFA back at his side. Somewhere over the past nine years they had grown comfortable together and Gibbs' world never felt complete without the younger man nearby. Grinning internally he berated himself for a sap before glancing over to see his smile mirrored on the face of his surrogate son.

Suddenly overtaken by a mischievous urge he straightened his features and asked blandly. "So, DiNozzo, when are you going to make like Fred Astaire?"

The younger man's bark of laughter finally loosened the last of the tension in his shoulders and he felt himself smiling as he tucked into his steak.


End file.
